


Right and Wrong

by aeternamente



Series: Time and Space [5]
Category: Nothing Much to Do
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-06
Updated: 2014-09-06
Packaged: 2018-02-16 07:38:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 779
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2261364
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aeternamente/pseuds/aeternamente
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I bet you think I’m a dick," Pedro said.</p>
<p>And yes, that was what you were just thinking, but you can’t say it. You even try to make yourself say it, but the defeated look in his eye stops your tongue.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Right and Wrong

You slide down the wall of the hallway, letting all the air out of your lungs as you go. It’s not that anything particularly terrible happened today, it’s just that everything continues to feel wrong—your whole world is just in this relentless stasis, and you almost wish something catastrophic would happen (again) to knock the world back into place.

Instead, something very small, but very significant happens.

"Hey," says a soft voice you immediately recognize as Pedro’s.

You look up. He hasn’t spoken to you since… since before the whole mess surrounding  _An Ode_.

"Hey," you respond. You haven’t spoken to him since then either. Even that time you almost kissed him, there were no words, just… feelings, too many feelings.

He slides down the wall to sit next to you, letting out a long breath just the same way you did. “Everything’s just so wrong,” he says.

"Yeah."

He drags his hands through his hair, and you’re trying to ignore the way that sends a thrill through your spine. For the past few weeks, you’ve been trying to find (a) the words and (b) the courage to tell him how much of a dick he’s been. Somehow, you think he might listen to you, but seeing him so upset has stripped any desire on your part to say any such thing. You wonder what that says about you.

"I bet you think I’m a dick," Pedro said.

And yes, that was what you were just thinking, but you can’t say it. You even try to  _make_  yourself say it, but the defeated look in his eye stops your tongue.

"I just—I mean, what—was Claudio supposed to stay with her after what she did?"

That’s an odd question, and it shows how he’s lost perspective on the whole situation. “There’s a lot of space between staying with someone who’s cheating on you—if that’s even what happened—”

"—It  _is_  what happened—”

"— _even if it is_ —there’s a lot of space between that and blowing up at her the way he did.”

He sighs. “Yeah, that’s probably our fault—me, Ben, and John—we told him to wait to say anything until after the party, which in hindsight, was a terrible idea. I guess everything just built up, you know?”

"It’s not your job to make excuses for him."

"I’m just trying to figure everything out," he says. "I just don’t know what the right thing to do really is. Everything I could do seems wrong somehow. I could apologize to Bea and Hero for being an ass at the party—and I was an ass, I’m not gonna deny that—but then Bea wouldn’t accept anything I say unless I admit I’m wrong, and I’m  _not_  wrong… and I know half of my friends think I’m a terrible person for still having anything to do with Claudio, and yeah, he’s made mistakes—”

"He’s  _made mistakes?_ ”

"Well so have I! And what am I supposed to do? Abandon him like everyone else? He’s going through a rough time too!"

"Do you even—?" you sputter. "Why are you even talking to me about this?"

He drags a hand through his hair again, then reverses and drags it down his face—these familiar things he always does when he’s tired or a little annoyed that have become all the more prevalent in his body language lately (and yes, you’ve been watching—watching from afar, but still watching).

"It’s just that… there’s so much going wrong right now, I just needed to go back to the last thing that felt right. And it was a little thing, too…" He reaches out and covers your hand with his, and slides his fingers so they interweave with yours. You don’t move at all, except to let out a heavy breath. You’re suddenly very aware that the two of you are sitting in almost exactly the same place you were  _last time_. Everything about  _last time_  is suddenly very present to you, like it’s happening right now… it  _is_ happening right now.

"But you don’t—you didn’t— _last time_ …”

"Last time," he says, staring you steadily in the eye, "I was scared, I—I didn’t understand what was happening. I didn’t understand how I really felt."

"How you really…" you echo faintly. You know you weren’t done with the previous conversation, that he’s changed the subject and is avoiding what really needs to be said, that this is dangerous territory.

But everything inside of you is drawing you forward, and you’re going to explode—you’re  _actually going to explode_ —unless you kiss him right now.

"God help me…" you mutter into his lips.


End file.
